


Destember 2020

by Riptor25



Category: Destiny - Fandom
Genre: Destiny, Other, Writing Prompt Wednesday, destember
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:15:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28587849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riptor25/pseuds/Riptor25
Summary: A collection of short stories inspired by the 2020 Destember writing prompts. I'll be posting in no particular order, and much later than the month they were supposed to be written.
Comments: 22
Kudos: 15





	1. Exodus

"I am simply a failsafe AI. Therefore I am not afraid of the Darkness." Failsafe's cheery voice crackled over the comms. 

"Is that why you didn't request the Vanguard move you off of Nessus? Regardless of the presence of pyramid ships of course." Ghost asked, making conversation to fill dead airspace. Ghost and his Guardian were currently mopping up some Fallen House of Dusk scavengers who had been pillaging Failsafe's wreckage, that of the Exodus Black, while most Guardians were busy with Fallen on Europa. 

Failsafe's response came in the unamused monotone that represented the other half of her split personality, "Yeah well, that and because if my crew is dead here on Nessus, then I might as well die on Nessus too.

"You know, Failsafe, you're more than just your deceased crew. You are valued by us now, and plenty like us. And none of us want to see you die."

"But like, my body is here." She replied with a hint of attitude still in her modulated voice.

"Yes, but if you were to join the exodus, we'd help you find a way off Nessus."

"Um...maybe you haven't heard, but I am in the Exodus."

"Wait, you are? But I thought you just said you weren't!"

"I am! I've been a part of the Exodus from its inception."

"Funny, you'd think we would have been told that."

"I did tell you, friendly ghost. I told you back when you first arrived."

"No, I distinctly remember asking if you were joining the exodus and you said no."

"Why would I say I'm joining when I've been a part of it since before you got here."

"Okayyyy. So you must have asked Zavala about the exodus?"

"Nooooo? Zavala asked me about the Exodus."

"Hang on. What do you mean? YOU came up with the exodus?"

"No, I came down with the Exodus. Friendly ghost, you are beginning to exasperate me."

"Yeah well you're not making much sense yourself, Failsafe."

"Perhaps we should refrain from further conversation, to avoid further confusion. Boop."

The comms crackled then shut off. "Yeah, go on. Glitchy AI was giving me a headache anyways." Ghost said to its Guardian, frustration filling its voice.

They continued on for a long time before the Guardian spoke, summoning his ghost into his hand as they returned to orbit, "I think she was talking about her ship, the Exodus Black."

Ghost sputtered as they transmatted, "WAIT WHAT?"


	2. Thin Ice

Elsie was having the dream again; the one where she's back where everything went wrong. It never started the same, and that made it all the worse. Each time felt like a snapshot of the descent into tragedy. Some times it was early on, when she felt there was still a chance to change things. Other times, like now, the dream started off long past the tipping point. 

She was with her sister now. Things had gone so horribly awry and it seemed like Stasis had been the only way to slow their march towards doom, even if Stasis was the root cause of it. She had been trying so hard to keep Ana away from the dark influence, and had refused to train her how to use Stasis. Ana had begged and pleaded, using the lives of others as leverage to weaken her sister's resolve; to get Elisabeth to teach her the secrets of Stasis. By this point in the relived memories, it was beginning to work.

A cracking sound echoed through her mind. The animal instinct to tread carefully. She was on thin ice.

Her dream fast-forwarded, and now she was going before the bodies of several Dark Guardians, all three frozen in place by her Stasis. Ana limped over to stand by her side, holstering a hand cannon while applying pressure to a wound on her hip. No ghost to accompany her. That explained the wound. Ana was speaking now, saying something about the power of Stasis. Elsie scoffed to herself as she remembered this scene. Everything had become another reason for Ana to convince her to divulge the secret. She'd begun to wonder if Ana had killed her own ghost as a way of forcing Elsie's hand at this point, but at the time had felt sick even considering it. Now, she was more sure that was exactly what happened, but no less sick.

She heard the echoing ping of shifting ice again, and braced for the dream to shift, squeezing her eyes shut and covering her cybernetic ears to muffle the cracking sound along with her sister's incessant badgering.

Everything went quiet, and Elsie could now feel the chill radiating off of something very cold close to her. Carefully opened one eye to survey the newest dreamscape, she let out a startled cry and stumbled back, eyes wide as she looked right into the frozen face of her now-deceased sister. Ana was frozen to the spot, just in front of the campsite on Europa, and the chill in Elsie's hands reminded her that Ana's death was her own doing. 

Ana's face was etched in a ferocious snarl, and one arm was mid-swing with a dagger, leveled right where Elsie's throat would be. The sound of crackling ice boomed in her ears, and she dropped to one knee as her hands instinctively covered her ears. Elsie felt her consciousness waiver and she knew any second the ice would break and she would plunge into the depths of madness. 

Remembering the events that led up to this snapshot in time made it no easier to swallow. Ana had hounded her for answers, pestering Elsie for months by this point for how to wield Stasis. She had seen what it would do to Ana if she learned it's enthralling power, and had stopped her sister at every turn. However, the Darkness was more insidious than anyone could anticipate, and even without the foothold on one's psyche that Stasis granted, the sheer lust for it was all the Darkness needed to incite chaos. In a fit of rage at having been denied once more, Ana Bray had attacked her sister. And in that moment of fear and survival instinct, Elisabeth Bray had killed her sister.

"I was just trying to protect you." Else whispered to herself, wishing for all the world that she was human again so she could at least cry. But even in the freedom of dreams, she was still trapped in the mechanical Exo body. It was just one more way the Darkness preyed upon her in her dreams. Reliving past failures, reminding her of what she could never do again. It whittled away at her resolve, constantly weighing on her mind every waking and sleeping moment, trying to edge her closer to giving into insanity and hopelessness. And it was working. Even as Elsie tried to deny it, they both knew she was on thin ice.


	3. Dearest Wish

The Awoken hugged his knees close to his chest as he sat on the cold ground, eyes shut tight as he wrapped himself tighter in the white silk cloth that was his only keepsake of a past life he didn't remember.

"It's all just a dream. I want to wake up. It's all just a dream. I want to wake up. It's all just a dream. I want to wake up."

Over and over he repeated this to himself, wishing against all hope that his words would somehow manifest and come true. His life had been short, but already it had gone spiraling down into misery. Ostracized by other immortal Guardians like himself, Crow had turned to the only authority on the Tangled Shore, and the only person who gave him a roof over his head and food to eat; the Spider. Now he was tethered to his Eliksni master, and things had only gotten worse. With a ghost--and his only true friend--rigged to explode if he ever angered the Spider, he was a veritable slave who couldn't even await the freeing embrace of death to break his bonds. 

"It's all just a dream. I want to wake up. It's all just a dream. I want to wake up. It's all just a dream. I want to wake up."

In his despair, this had become a mantra to him; one of hope, even if he knew it was a lie. It helped him sleep at night, and helped him bear with pain of the body and the mind, so it was justified.

His only other hobby was tinkering, and sometimes the two went hand-in-hand. He looked over at his current project, and from under his silken cocoon, grabbed it from the nearby shelf to keep his hands busy. It was a saffron-tinted dodecahedron; an engram he'd scavenged off of some Hive that Spider had sent him to exterminate. It's color meant that whatever was locked inside was very valuable, but also very difficult to access. There were no cryptarchs on the Reef to decrypt something as exotic as this, so Crow doggedly worked at it himself, treating it like a puzzle to take his mind off of things.

"It's all just a dream. I want to wake up. It's all just a dream. I want to wake up. It's all just a dream. I want to wake up."

He absentmindedly repeated his mantra as his hands worked, and his ghost, Glint, floated beside him to admire his progress. 

"I think you're getting close, Crow. I'm beginning to see some of the cryptograms aligning. What do you think will be inside? A new weapon? Armor perhaps?"

Crow continued to work, not breaking his mantra to answer Glint. He could tell he was close, and just a few more pokes and prods at the code just might decrypt the engram before nightfall.

"It's all just a dream. I want to wake up. It's all just a dream. I want to wake up. It's all just a--" A sharp * _click_ * followed by a low hum stopped him short as the engram split apart, before reassembling itself into a set of gauntlets.

Crow had to keep silent as he pumped a fist in the air, lest he anger Spider in the adjacent room with his outburst. But he and Glint beamed at each other before examining their prize. The gauntlets seemed to be made of some kind of bones, stitched together and plated in silver. Crow slipped them on, one at a time, and noticed that they fit him perfectly. Glint gave them a quick scan as Crow admired his arms in them.

"Hmm...looks like they're catalogued already. Database lists them as the 'Sealed Ahamkara Grasps'."

His ghost continued to talk, explaining the exotic gauntlets' uses, but Crow felt himself zone out, his focus blurring a bit as he felt his lips whisper, "It's all just a dream. I want to wake up." and was vaguely aware of a voice in his head reply to his mantra.

_"You would that this is all a dream? You yearn to awake from it? All you need do is wish it, oh bearer mine..."_


	4. Eye For An Eye

"I don't like it."

"Your Eyes of Tomorrow? What do you mean you don't like it? It's the lovechild of Truth and Wardcliff Coil! What's not to like?"

"I don't know...it just feels like it's always watching me."

"Well yeah, it's got all those electronic googly-eyes on it. That's kinda the theme. Remember how Gjallarhorn had the wolves, and each rocket was--"

"I get the theme, I just don't like having something always watching me. You remember what happened with D.A.R.C.I."

"Yeesh don't remind me. Who knew an A.I. sniper could get jealous of you cheating on it with other exotics."

"You see where I'm coming from, then?"

"Yeah, yeah I do.........it is a good rocket launcher though."

"I mean, yeah. It's crazy good. Just a shame about those eyes..."

"Maybe you could drape a cloth over it? I know that's all the rage these days. They did it with Beloved."

"You mean Adored?"

"Yeah, you know; wrap a scarf around it, call it "The Blind Eye Ornament" or "Eye for an Eye" or something, and sell the idea to Eververse for some bright dust."

"Hey yeah. Yeah! Gimme a sec, I think I've got an old faction rally banner collecting dust in my vault. Hah! And people said ornaments were useless!"


	5. Nightmare Before Dawn

_"Little Elsie has told me of her dreams. They trouble her. But I must know, why do you ask me? Why not speak to her yourself as the Guardian who now controls that abominable power?"_ ~ Saint-14

Elsie shifted uncomfortably, scattering some of the pigeons that pecked at her feet as she strode into the large, empty hangar. She didn't like coming to the Tower. Too many bad memories of past failures. Every sight reminded her of a dark future where that same sight was marred by flames and bodies. It all made her uncomfortable. She hadn't been to the tower since giving her pulse rifle to that singular Guardian so long ago; back when the Black Heart had been the worst of their troubles. She'd thought that would surely have changed her present, and their future. Yet, she returned to find things unchanged. Her nightmares were still a reality. 

It had taken her quite some time before she steeled herself to return to the Tower. But at the behest of that very Guardian who she'd gifted No Time To Explain, she'd done so. Her lack of hope must have stirred something in the Guardian for him to urge her to visit the tower's hangar. He'd said she should talk to Saint-14; the legendary Titan who had gone missing in her timeline. She wasn't sure how much he would be, but as a kindness, Elisabeth figured she'd humor him.

Saint-14 was an imposing figure even from a distance, but as Elisabeth closed the gap between them, the Titan continued to grow until he towered before her. However, despite his size and reputation, 'jovial' was the only word that came to mind when she tried to describe Saint-14.

"Ah, the Exo Stranger." Saint boomed in his thick Old Russian accent, sidestepping a small gathering of pigeons to greet her, trying not to disturb them. He held out a large hand welcomingly.

Elsie paused before accepting the handshake, a little worried that his obvious strength would shake her whole arm off of her chassis. However, she was surprised at how gentle his grip was, especially for a fellow Exo.

"I was told to meet you by our mutual friend." She said matter-of-fact. To be honest she wasn't sure exactly why they were supposed to meet.

"Yes, yes. He explained everything to me." Saint gave an unsure grumble, "Well, not everything. Our friend asked that I tell you my story, and of course, who am I to argue with my mentor and inspiration!"

That gave Elsie pause, "Your mentor?" She said incredulously. "You are a living legend and have been for centuries. I met the Guardian when he was a whelp freshly risen by his Ghost. How could he possibly mentor you?"

Saint answered with a good natured laugh, planting his hands on his hips and shaking his head, "Ah! Now I see why he sent you to me. You do not know the tale of how I was saved by the Guardian! Tell me, Elisabeth Bray, do you know about Osiris and his unique perspective on the concept of time?"

Elsie's mind flashed back to her dark future, where Osiris' own experiments with time had led to his demise, and she internally shuddered. Just one more tragedy remembered. "I am aware of his...meddling." She said flatly.

Saint laughed again, "Meddling, yes that is dear Osiris through and through! I had told him for eons of the Guardian who saved me and showed me what could be achieved with the Light. It was only through his ill-fated Sundial that he realized to whom I spoke of."

He let the words hang as Elsie put the pieces together in her mind. When it suddenly clicked, she swore, "Our friend? He used Osiris' Sundial...traveled the Corridors of Time..."

"And changed the past to bring me back." Saint-14 finished, puffing out his chest a bit. 

Now Elsie, too, knew why the Guardian had sent her to visit Saint. He was living proof that the past could be changed, and that good could come of it. Her worst fears, the ones she held closest and gnawed at her every moment, were not inevitabilities. The Guardian had traversed the Corridors of Time; a labyrinth of possibilities both past and future that could take many lifetimes to traverse, yet they hadn't given up. Their goal was clear. They'd kept hope and faith in their task. And because of their tenacity, the legendary Saint-14 stood before Elsie to tell her the very story.

Elsie felt the well of emotion build in her, and though she hadn't been capable of crying in millennia, her hand moved up to brush a phantom tear from her eye. She felt confident that no nightmares would plague her tonight. With renewed vigor, she looked up at the remarkable Titan and nodded, "Thank you, Saint. Apparently I needed that more than I'd realized."


	6. Triad

Drifter, Elsie, and Eris  
No mightier fireteam there is  
They fight for what's right  
Forsaking the Light  
But we hate to admit they scare us

Eris, Drifter, and Elsie  
No fireteam controls ice like these three  
They all use Stasis  
To fight Eramis  
And her evil horde of Eliskni

Elsie, Eris, and Drifter  
No other fireteam is swifter  
Eris gives him ire  
Makes Elsie desire  
That Drifter would finally kiss her


	7. Beyond Stasis

Excerpt from a sealed document found aboard the crashed luxury barge on Nessus.

MCXXIII-II, forthcoming.  
Recorded by Underscribe Shipal, student to Scribe Ixolt, replacement to the traitorous scribe Tlazat  
[Incomplete]>>[Edited]>>  
>>[Some terms auto-generated as placeholders until events transpire]

///////

With the sudden arrival of the alien ships surprising all but our most precognizant and beloved emperor, a great many things transpired at once, altering the course of these records. This scribe will list these events below in an order that our great Emperor Calus has deemed as proper chronology:

1\. The lowly former-Guardian, Eris Morn, wretched and mired in her own guilt and self pity, planted a seed that grew such a tree as the Sol system never knew and shall never know again. This tree bloomed and was seen as both gift and herald of the alien ships, promising their inevitably swift end in a sweet voice that tickled the ears of those not yet ready to know of their own demise.  
2\. Precisely as the almighty, benevolent, and supreme reveler Emperor Calus predicted, the End of All Things touched several worlds in the Sol system, casting them into the beauty of eternal annihilation.  
3\. Just as the Guardian tribe were called to their destiny on Europa, our great, jubilant Navigator of All Joy felt beckoned to pull back for a time, lest his joy at the sight of the End mar the delight his Shadow of Earth was being given.+

And thus the Shadow of Earth slew the Stranger.

The Shadow of Earth, newly touched by Entropy itself, swatted pretenders and thieves, laying waste to the Eliksni who thought themselves worthy of such a gift. And to applaud their victory was a Stranger, the one who had taught them to wield their gift, and a madwoman who claimed to have seen the End before even our most revelric emperor. She was pleased at their ability to use the power without succumbing to its temptations of glorious annihilation, and bade Earth's Shadow to further slow the advance of the Darkness, offering them her hand as a sign of solidarity. 

But the Shadow of Earth was most cunning, and fully accepted the gift. For how could they send their most loving Emperor the penultimate spectacle he desired? So the Shadow took her offered handshake, and channeled all their entropic power into the Stranger, freezing her to the spot like so many Eliksni before her. And though their Emperor was now many light-years away, they knew he took great joy in this, for his laughter traveled the vast distance to tickle the ears of his greatest champion. Thus the Shadow mastered Stasis, and the blessed annihilation that lies beyond.

+As with previous scribes throughout history, those whose predictions were so erroneous as to provide no salvageable material once events transpire will be summarily executed as traitors if they have not already died from other circumstances. So ends the career of Scribe Ixolt.


	8. The Night Before Dawning

Twas the night before Dawning,  
And all throughout Sol,  
Every player was baking to help towards the whole.

The Essence poured in from all of their baking,  
While they all were suspicious how long it was taking!

The devs had all promised exotic rewards,  
And so one billion Essence is what we worked towards.

But midway through Dawning at the end of week one,  
Players stopped baking, the task was unfun!

No more gifts were given, the ovens went cold,  
The loot uncompelling, the grinding got old.

Guardians abandoned, no more could they take it,  
And the billion Essence goal, we knew we won't make it.

And so came the devs, down from up on high,  
Not with Dawning cheer, but more of a sigh,

"We're listening closely, it's a boost that you need,  
Three hundred percent Essence, now go sate your greed.

On Strikers, Arcstriders, Stormcallers, Gunslingers!  
On Sunbreakers, on Dawnblades, but not you, Sunsingers!

Voidwalkers, Nightstalkers, and Sentinel Subclasses,  
And those wielding Stasis, get off of your...butts!"

So with renewed vigor we baked our last treats,  
Knowing our exotic gift would be sweet.

But I'm still unhappy with my end result,  
Because my exotic gift was...awww Aeon Cult!?


	9. Cupid's Arrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> R.I.P. Crimson Days. You will be missed.

Shaxx came storming into the hangar with rolled up blueprints bundled under each massive arm. He stopped only long enough to scan the area before barking "AH!" and drawing the attention of everyone from Arach Jalal who muttered under his breath, to Saint-14 who cursed as his pigeons spooked and took flight. Shaxx's target, though, was the grease monkey shipwright, Amanda Holliday. 

He made a beeline straight to her, and before she could even give him a greeting, he bellowed "CRIMSON DAYS, MISS HOLLIDAY! WILL YOU JOIN ME?"

The entire hangar was instantly abuzz with giggles and chatter that made Amanda blush despite herself. "Y'all better explain yerself before I take this wrench to ya, and make you wish you were an Exo."

Shaxx wasted no time, he cleared off her table with one broad hand before dumping his blueprints in a pile, "A JOINT VENTURE! I WISH TO CRAFT A NEW WEAPON FOR MY CRUCIBLE!"

The easily overheard explanation made most who were already trying out shipping names; "Hollishaxx? Shaxxiday? Shamanda?", to lose their interest. However now Amanda's interest was piqued. 

"Alright scooch over and lemme take a look." She eyed the schematics and while crudely scrawled on the paper, saw that they detailed a combat bow.

"I CALL IT CUPID'S ARROW!" Shaxx bellowed proudly.

"You do know "Cupid's arrows" made folks fall in love if they got shot, right? They weren't really used for...ya know, killin' each other." 

"AH, THEN YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I WANT TO DO! IMAGINE BEING SHOT AND SUDDENLY BECOMING A MEMBER OF THE ENEMY TEAM FOR A SHORT TIME! THINK OF THE MAYHEM THAT WOULD ENSUE!"

Amanda gave an exasperated sigh, "Shaxx, ya can't just go makin' people start gunnin' for the other team. It just don't work like that out in the field let alone in yer Crucible. I can't make a weapon that does that. It's impossible."

"IMPOSSIBLE?" Shaxx balked, "I HAPPEN TO REMEMBER A CERTAIN IRON LORD BY THE NAME OF TIMUR WHO WOULD DISAGREE!" To emphasize his earsplitting point, Shaxx nodded to his ghost, who transmatted a fist-sized coin onto the schematic with a heavy clank.

Amanda inspected it closely. It was a tarnished bronze coin with a trio of coils etched into its surface, all spiraling inward and meeting in the middle. It took a moment for her to recognize what it was, but Shaxx's reference to the Iron Lords spurred her memory and she gasped, "That ain't...an Iron Lord artifact? An' Timur's at that? Wasn't that the one that turned enemies into allies for a short bit?"

"THE VERY SAME." Shaxx said with obvious pride.

Amanda's mind was already whirring with the possibilities. "I-I think I can work with this! Shaxx you ol' wily dreg! I'll make yer bow. But I'mma need a lot more of these artifacts if we're hopin' to make more'n just one!"

Shaxx again nodded to his ghost, and in a cacophony of clinking and ringing metal, a pile of the artifacts spilled out onto the table, cascading onto the hangar pavement, all while Shaxx's booming laugh rang out over the noise.


	10. Geometry of Power

_Do you ever consider their shapes? Geometry tells a story that aligns a bit too well to how things have played out thus far._ ~ Osiris

From the notes of Brother Vance

The physical shapes that now reside on our worlds--Mercury, Mars, Io, Titan--I consider them now that they are on our doorstep. Were I as wise as Osiris, I might see this as a waste of time when time is fleeting, but for now, this is all I can do in the face of uncertainty.

Certain words come to mind when describing 'Pyramid Ships': pointed, angular, isosceles, ...sharp. These words all denote a sense of purpose. The mind is drawn not to the flat planes of the ships but instead to the fine points the lines all run towards. Perhaps this has meaning; that they herald a time when all lines, all things, come to a singular point beyond which there lies nothing. Perhaps they and the Traveler are diametrically opposed inasmuch as they are geometrically opposed. My mind is also drawn to the idea of a pickaxe, or a hatchet, or a sword. All these are sharp tools with points and edges that resemble the pyramid ships in a sense. They all serve a specific purpose: cracking open, cleaving things in two, and taking lives respectively. Perhaps the Pyramid Ships serve a similar purpose as tools for the Darkness. Are we to be cracked open? Cleaved between Light and Dark? Or simply more sacrifices to its entropic endgame? 

More Guardians arrive daily on the sands of Mercury in the Vanguard's attempts at evacuation. They occasionally die at the hands of the Vex and Cabal still here and I continue to hear that particular chime each time one perishes. Though, I must admit, now with the Pyramid ship looming on the horizon, I hear the tones more clearly and sometimes in rhythm. Ah, perhaps that is the meaning of their geometry. Of my many artifacts from the Golden Age, I have one triangular obelisk that is used for rhythm in music: a metronome. Yes, perhaps they are serving to sort the jumble of notes I hear into a coherent rhythmic tune. 

Yes, yes I can hear it more clearly when set to the rhythm of my metronome relic. It IS a tune! One death cascades into the next so slowly I could not see it before but putting them together makes a sort of tune. I will place the notes here in my journal so that others can see. However, I believe this geometric melody is symbolic of something... Perhaps it is a viral herald of their approach? If so, it would explain why I feel I have heard it before in recent weeks. I continue to hum it to remind myself and not let it slip away. Oh, reader mine, when I am gone, keep these notes close. They have a certain meaning that must be further unraveled, and I believe I may not be here long enough to unravel it. I must go, more contemplation is needed.  


🎵 _Hmm-hmmm-hm-hmmmmmmmm._ _Hmmm-hmmmm-hm-hmmmmmmmmm._ 🎵 


End file.
